


A Start

by sunalso



Series: You Don't Know [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Lance Hunter, Bisexual Leo Fitz, M/M, Prequel to Heathens, Season/Series 02, someone's got a crush!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23214922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/pseuds/sunalso
Summary: S2 AU. Fitz and Hunter meeting. Prequel to Heathens.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Lance Hunter
Series: You Don't Know [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1190770
Comments: 16
Kudos: 39





	A Start

**Author's Note:**

  * For [for_the_love_of_wolves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_the_love_of_wolves/gifts).



Hunter hated being the new kid. Not that he didn’t know how to make inroads with people, he was a bloody good spy, but being undercover was vastly different than having to be himself in a group of other highly trained agents.

Since he’d been recruited and sent to join the team at the Playground, Hunter hadn’t felt like he fit. A lot of the people were really insular. Which, after being betrayed and the entire organization torn almost to shreds, did make sense. But understanding didn’t make it any more fun.

At least Mack was around, though he’d been busy.

It all added up to Hunter finding himself frequently on edge. And being tense had led him to a middle-of-the-night work out session in the hope that sweating would lead to sleeping.

Towel around his neck, he trudged down the hallway towards the bunks. Motion in the dimly lit central lab caught his attention and Hunter pressed his back against the side of the door and peeked in. A pale man, hunched over a table and raking his fingers through his hair, frowned down at a tablet.

Something tugged in Hunter’s chest. The bloke looked so alone like he was a puzzle with most of its pieces missing.

Hunter cleared his throat. “Hey,” Hunter said, walking into the lab. “You doing alright in her? I’m Lance Hunter, one of the new operatives.”

The man glanced up and Hunter froze, stunned by a pair of starling blue eyes.

He liked blue eyes.

The bloke didn’t smile, and he returned his focus to the tablet. “Fitz.”

Ah, yes. He’d heard of Leo Fitz, hurt in the power grab by hydra and still recovering. Everybody talked about him in hushed tones, but no one had bothered mentioning how cute the fellow was. Tousled bedhead and the beginnings of scruff made him look both soft and hard.

A strand of heat unwound itself deep in Hunter’s belly, and it felt like something long asleep had at last roused itself. “It’s nice to meet you, Fitz,” Hunter said.

Fitz nodded without looking up. With a sigh, Hunter pursed his lips. He did not simply want to turn on his heel and walk off, even though he’d heard rumors that Fitz had been hurt by a girlfriend and therefore probably didn’t want or need to be chatted up by a bloke, but he did look like he needed a friend, and Hunter could enjoy his little crush from close proximity.

“I have to ask.” Hunter leaned his hip against the table. “Do you follow football?”

Fitz abandoned the tablet to swivel in his chair. “You mean proper football?” A smile transformed his face. He went from being intriguing to heartstring-tugging adorable. The heat in Hunter’s belly unfurled further as Fitz’s eyes finally swept over him. Hunter knew how he looked in his workout clothes of a tank and clingy track pants, his muscles bunched from lifting weights and sweat slicking his shoulders.

To Hunter’s surprise, Fitz’s gaze lingered on his lips, his chest, and took a brief dip below his waistband before Fitz’s cheeks pinked and he looked way. Wasn’t that interesting.

“Yeah,” Hunter said. “Not this Yank kind. Real football.” He sidled a few inches closer to Fitz, who didn’t lean away.

Hunter could smell him, the scent of cologne not spicy, but something fresh. He wished he could lean in, nuzzle Fitz’s neck, bite the spots that smelled the strongest.

“I’d like to t-t-t…ta…speak about it sometime.” Fitz’s shoulder’s slumped.

Injured, Fitz had been injured and probably had a broken heart. He didn’t need someone coming on strong. That was fine. Hunter could play a long game, might be wise, in case Fitz turned out to be an arsehole. Hunter didn’t need another heartache.

“Pint and a match Saturday night?”

“With me?”

Those soft words sent a bolt right through Hunter, they were so unsure. “Yeah, mate, with you.” Hunter could feel his hackles rising, he wanted to keep this man safe.

“Okay, um, meet here?”

“Sure.” Fitz’s long-fingered hand fiddled with the tablet on the table. “I need to go hydrate. You want to hang in the kitchen with me? You can tell me who you root for.”

Fitz’s expression turned sly. There had to be a lot of intelligence hiding under that sweet face. It was a combination Hunter had never been able to resist. “I’ll make tea.”

“Bless you, mate.”

Fitz stood and shoved a trembling hand into his pocket.

Hunter wanted to wrap him in a hug. He looked like he needed it so badly. But Hunter could wait. He could be patient.

Soon he’d get Fitz talking about whatever girl had done him wrong, and Hunter could commiserate with stories of the hellbeast—his heart tied itself in knots because he’d never really get over her—but together maybe he and Fitz could learn how to have a good time again.

“I’ve got a stash of real beer,” Fitz said, walking beside Hunter in the hallway.

“Not this horse piss Yank-swill?”

Fitz laughed, the sound warm and welcoming. Even though Hunter had just met the bloke, he knew it’d been fate that’d put Fitz in Hunter’s path.

This was the start of something beautiful.


End file.
